


Growing Back Together

by lilcogs



Category: Everlark - Fandom, The Hunger Games
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-11
Updated: 2015-07-11
Packaged: 2018-04-08 19:17:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4316613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilcogs/pseuds/lilcogs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Peeta and I grow back together."<br/>Katniss and Peeta end up making an important decision together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Growing Back Together

**Author's Note:**

> I decided to go more accurately with the plot this time. I hope you enjoy my attempt at Suzanne Collins' writing style.  
> Find me on Tumblr at everlark-af.

In the spring, years after I return to 12, the Meadow blooms with color and the air is crisp with the smell of new beginnings. Victor's Village is lonely, its only occupants being Haymitch, Peeta, and me.

After the revolution, 12 slowly began to come back to life. The fall of the Capitol signaled a change in the district; a sort of restart for wayward refugees. Businesses and homes began to be rebuilt, and I spent many of my evenings in front of a window in my huge, lonely house, watching the progress with Buttercup perched lazily on my lap.

And for a long time, I had spent all of my time alone. I barely bothered to move from in front of the fireplace to eat or shower, much less leave the warmth of my home. Instead, I sat. I watched the reconstruction of my town. And I witnessed my skin, and I suppose also my mind, heal. I didn't give much of a second thought to hunting, or Haymitch, or even Peeta.

And then one day I was putting on my father's hunting jacket, which by now was worn thin and ragged from overuse, and I was opening my front door to face the cold. I had my bow in my hand, and I guess I was headed towards the woods. I don't remember much of it, actually. But I guess that's what happens when you're depressed. At least that's what my doctors, who came once a month to check up on me, had told each other. Along with something about post-traumatic stress disorder. I didn't agree with them; I wasn't stressed. I was quite at peace, actually. Besides, what trauma had I gone through? I didn't recall anything horrifying about my past. All I did was sit and wait for my mother and Prim to return home. Where were they? The hospital? I didn't know. I didn't listen or pay attention to much other than the crackle of the fire or Buttercup's occasional mewl of hunger.

My trip to the woods, however brief it was, was met with pure elation from my doctors. They said it was a sign of progress, and they spoke to me as if I was a child. They asked me dozens of meaningless questions, but I stood and walked out the door again. I was suddenly struck by an overwhelming want- no, _need_ \- to see Peeta. I had knocked lightly on his door, and it took a while for him to answer, but eventually he did. A bright smile had broken across his face, and he looked relieved to see me. Like he had been waiting all this time for me to visit. Which I supposed he had been. Peeta loved me, I allowed myself to realize one night while wrapped in his arms.

Peeta and Haymitch had been essential to my regrowth. Although Haymitch was most always drunk, and rightly so, he and Peeta's presence in my life helped with the healing process. I'm mostly okay now. Dysfunctional, but okay.

Every now and then, ashes, which belong those who once were and which will never come out of the earth, blow around with the breeze. I've learned to overcome the panic attacks that I used to be inflicted with when this happened. Peeta holds me when I'm overwhelmed with the anguish of losing Prim- along with countless others- and in return I'm there to wait in the doorway when a hijacked memory threatens to haunt him.

My mother has never returned to 12. There are too many memories here associated with that time in her life when everything seemed to go wrong. I'm one of those reminders, I suppose. I used to get angry with her for being so selfish by staying in 13, but that's mostly subsided. I realized that she would probably bring me bad memories, as well, and I had enough of those as it was. So I left her alone.

Gale visits occasionally, though he rarely gets a break from his apparently good job in the weaponries department in 2. I find that his stays here are mostly bitter, filled with long silences that hold all the words we know in our hearts but would never say aloud. He's moved past his small crush on me, even has a wife in 2. I've heard rumors that they have a child, a daughter, though Gale hasn't been here lately to confirm them. I live with Peeta in his home now. It was an easy move, considering I have few possessions beside my father's jacket, Peeta's and my book, my pearl, and, of course, Buttercup. Besides, I needed to get out of my old house, which was a cramped atmosphere in everything but its physical size.

One day, when I'm on my way out the door to head into the woods, Peeta stops me with a hesitant hand on my arm. To this day he remains unsure of his ability to touch me, though I've told him several times that it's alright.

"Katniss, I... I made cheese buns," he says. I'm not sure why he tells me this. It's not unusual for him to bake; it's a sort of therapy for him.

"Okay," I respond, offering him a simple smile. He scuffs his shoes on the floor, avoiding my gaze.

"Peeta?" I ask. "What's going on?"

He sighs. "I want to start trying for children, Katniss," he blurts in a rush. Then he clamps his mouth shut and looks away. I furrow my brow, thinking it over. He's allowed me more than enough time to recover and thrive, and he's never outright asked me this before. There's no reason for me to refuse his wish. Still, I find it difficult to come to a decision. My body and mind have endured more casualties than most people's ever will. Am I physically or mentally prepared to adapt to a child in the house? I know Peeta is. He's always been ready for children. But he's been sensitive of my well-being, and so he's never pushed the issue. Now it seems he's growing impatient, and I'm sure he must know that soon I'll be of a certain age where I am unable to bear his children.

"Nevermind," Peeta interrupts my thoughts. "Forget I said that. If you're not ready, you're not ready. It's alright."

He walks out of the kitchen, leaving me staring after him in shock. I didn't realize the matter was so important to him. I follow him into the living room thirty seconds later. He's standing at the huge bay window, overlooking the Meadow, which at this moment is the rendezvous area for an entire flock of geese.

"Peeta," I say to him softly, and he turns around. I wind my thin arms around his strong neck and meet his conflicted blue gaze."I'm ready if you are."

His eyes lift, and a huge grin breaks across his face right before he kisses me full on the mouth, this time not needing to wonder if it's okay.


End file.
